


Orange is the warmest colour

by zaynscheekbones



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Depression, M/M, Set in London, because i know nothing about seoul, but we'll see, lots of fluff, not sure how often ill update innit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-12 01:44:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7079497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaynscheekbones/pseuds/zaynscheekbones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seunghyun is the kind of person that will sit for a 45 minutes in the wrong seminar, realise he’s in the wrong seminar, then rush to catch the last 15 minutes of the seminar he’s actually supposed to be in. Jiyong is the kind of person that doesn't really mind what a mess Seunghyun is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He’s not stupid, he’s actually very clever. But it’s a slow clever. It’s a clever that doesn’t smack you in the face; a clever that comes out in 2:51 am conversations about art and Greek methodology. But he’s oblivious, everyone says. Seunghyun is the kind of person that will pay to see a film he forgot he saw last week, the kind of person who will leave his keys on the outside of his door for two days. Seunghyun is the kind of person that will sit for a 45 minutes in the wrong seminar, realise he’s in the wrong seminar, then rush to catch the last 15 minutes of the seminar he’s actually supposed to be in. 

It’s 3:45 pm, Tuesday, the 15th of October and he’s done just that. It’s not really his fault. He had 2 hours sleep last night and there’s probably still a fair bit of alcohol in his system. Much more Daesung’s fault. Daesung with his ‘lets go out tonight hyung!’ every night, Daesung with his ridiculously persuasive smile and bangs that make his look like a Yak. Daesung’s fault he was stumbling into a stranger’s flat at 2 am for some of the most intense sex he’s ever had, sex that is still making his bum hurt in mysterious places. 

Sadly he doesn’t have the time to communicate that it’s not his fault he’s in the wrong seminar to the lecturer before he’s out of the room, the bemused smirks of other students following him as he goes out the door. There’s probably no point trying to catch the last few minutes of his actual seminar, but Seunghyun’s not thinking straight as he runs down the halls. He bursts into the right room, mumbles his apologies and crashes down into a seat. He’s panting heavily and sweat is threatening to drip off his nose; he looks a fucking mess and feels even worse. The alcohol still in his system threatens to leave his body and Seunghyun isn’t too sure which end from, but deep breaths manage to calm the rumbling in his stomach and push the taste of acid in his mouth away. 

Across the room, staring at him with the same bemused look on his face as the students from the seminar he wasn’t meant to be in, is a small boy with a lot of orange hair. And Seunghyun’s pretty sure he’s seen that mop of hair before. Pretty sure he saw it beneath him between the hours of 2 and 5 am, moaning and writhing. Sitting next to him is a guy with blonde hair, a guy he also remembers meeting last night. This is fucking shitty. 

He hasn’t been able to pay attention to any of the seminar, focusing instead on how he wont stop fucking sweating and how his one night stand is directly opposite him, watching him drown in sweat. Everyone gets up to leave and Seunghyun packs his things back into his bag as slow as possible, hoping the one night stand will just leave and he can go home and stick his head in the oven. Doesn’t work, of course it doesn’t fucking work. Seunghyun’s eyes are firmly cast downwards as he pretends to answer some very important messages, but he can hear footsteps towards him and sure enough there’s a tinge of orange in the corner of his eye. One night stand’s sent his blonde friend away and it’s just the two of them left in the seminar room, standing two feet apart. 

“Hi, uh, how are you feeling after last night? You left mine in a bit of a state” He laughs gently. Seunghyun finally allows himself to look at the kid but all he can do is stare. He’s never been good at talking to new people, especially when they’re pretty new people and my god, up close this boy is pretty. 

“Yeah, um, I’ve been better” He finally spits out. The kid laughs and Seunghyun takes the cue, laughing back. 

“What are you doing now? Wanna go get some coffee maybe?” He says. His hair bounces as he talks, and Seunghyun likes that. And before he can even think about it, he’s blurting out;

“Now? Yes” He’s still sweating out the alcohol in his system and he doesn’t even remember the kid’s name, but now they’re going for coffee and Seunghyun can’t seem to do anything except put one foot in front of each other and follow the boy with orange hair. 

Seunghyun gets an iced latte, which was a terrible mistake because his body is already fragile and it doesn’t deal with dairy very well. Jiyong (he had to read the name on his takeaway cup to find it out) orders a green tea and they sit down under an air conditioning vent, which is really great. 

“Why did you come into the seminar 45 minutes late? I would’ve just given up” Jiyong asks, so Seunghyun tells him the story. “So, you’re a bit of a hot mess?” he says and winks and Seunghyun, and Seunghyun doesn’t know whether the twinge he just felt was annoyance or a little bit of blood rushing to a certain place again. They talk for a while, or rather Jiyong talks and Seunghyun tries to stop the gas in his stomach coming out, until Jiyong has to go meet a friend, the blonde one from the night before, and Seunghyun has to go sleep for 100 years in order to get rid of this hangover. They exchange numbers and kisses on cheeks before leaving, and suddenly Jiyong isn’t just a one night stand, he’s his Saturday night date. Whoops.


	2. Of Facebook and Mental Breakdowns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seunghyun falls apart a lil bit

Kwon Jiyong is his full name. Seunghyun finds this out the first time he looks him up on Facebook later that night, and then proceeds to look him up everyday between Tuesday and Friday. 564 friends, 3 mutual. Likes; ‘messy hair, no makeup, joggers, hoodie;…perfection until the door knocks’, ‘officialhuskylovers’ and… ‘unilad’. Hey, nobody’s perfect.

Daesung catches him flipping through Jiyong’s profile pictures one day (they get rapidly more attractive and indie once Jiyong hits puberty) and, of course, won’t shut up. He manages to worm it out of Seunghyun about the one night stand, the kind-of date and eventually the date on Saturday, claiming that it was all thanks to Daesungie and demanding to be invited next time Seunghyun decides to carb-load after a night of debaucherous sex (with Seunghyun paying, obviously). Seunghyun has to slow him down; he doesn’t even know if there will be anymore sex. The thing on Saturday is a _date_ , not a hook-up, and Seunghyun’s never been very good at dates. Seunghyun is the guy who has messy drunk sex and then leaves in the morning, not the guy who holds hands and does kisses on the cheek.

It takes Daesung to point out the fact that this is the first time he’s agreed to spend time outside of the bedroom with one of his sexual conquests and the fact that for the past 5 minutes Seunghyun has been absentmindedly flipping through Jiyong’s profile pictures with a disgustingly happy look on his face, for Seunghyun to realise that this _thing_ with Jiyong, whatever it is, is different. He wasn’t feeling nervous about this date but now he feels like he could shit his pants at any moment, and it isn’t the lattes doing this to him.

On Monday Yougbae, mutual friends on Facebook with Jiyong, told Daesung about the 3,500 word essay due in Saturday night. On Friday night, _5 days later_ , Daesung decides to let Seunghyun know. Seunghyun hasn’t started it and hasn’t turned up to a single seminar for it, and he is, to put it mildly, fucked. He cancels on Jiyong, making him feel really weird and guilty and _uncomfortable_ , and resigns himself to 24 hours of hell and caffeine, in that order.

But two hours in and tears are already threatening to fall. He realised quickly into his first year that he was out of his depth in this course and should probably quit, but he had too much fun living in the city and stuck it out. Now he’s in second year, about £30,000 in debt and fucking crying over a fucking politics essay. All thoughts of Jiyong are out of his head, replaced by a self-hatred that no matter what he does always resurface. 

He used to be really smart, getting the best A levels in his school for God’s sake, until he came to University and became a small fish in a huge fucking galaxy. Realised he wasn’t the golden child he thought he was, that everyone else thought he was. He quickly found that it’s easier just to give in and let himself fall apart, be a bigger mess than the questionable pile of laundry in Daesung’s room. Coming home at 4 am with a black eye after a fight over a McDonalds cheeseburger is way easier than coming home at 4 am with a headache from studying too much.

It’s just that it comes back to bite him in the arse on nights like this. 

6 hours in. He’s gotten nowhere. Thinks for some reason it will be a good idea to ask Daesung how much this essay is actually worth. He doesn’t like the answer, and he’s torn between sticking his head in the oven or burning down the building with him inside, when the doorbell rings. It rings 3 more times before he finally looks through the peep hole and fuck, he must have had too much coffee, because he could swear that standing on the other side of the door is a small boy with orange hair. Not just a small boy with orange hair, _his_ small boy with orange hair.


	3. Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jiyong and Seunghyun are awkward and cute.

Seunghyun opens the door and directs his gaze a few inches downwards until his eyes make contact with the other pair of eyes in front of him. 

“Kwon Jiyong” He says, and he doesn’t know why he says it in such a dramatic tone or even why he felt the need to forgo polite greetings. He must look pretty awful because Jiyong’s eyes widen to the size of ashtrays, and in focusing on his eyes Seunghyun forgets to say anything else and just leans against the door frame, staring. He’s not sure how long he stares in silence for, but it’s long enough to prompt Jiyong into clearing his throat and saying;

“Hi” 

Which is good. The conversation is off to a flying start. 

“This might seem a bit weird, me turning up on your doorstep, and if you want me to leave just say and I’ll piss off haha”. Jiyong laughs nervously and his hair bounces again, and Seunghyun still likes the way it does that. “But my friend Youngbae was mentioning how you probably bailed on me because of this essay, not that I was… talking to him about you or whatever, but I thought, and seriously just tell me if you want me to go away, but I thought that, like, since I’ve already done the essay maybe I could help you? I’m pretty good at essays really and well, you kinda fucked up my plans for the weekend haha, so?”.

Jiyong talks fast and, like his laugh, his words make his orange hair bounce up and down. When he finishes his speech and starts wrapping his fingers nervously around his hair, Seunghyun realises he has to say something, anything, or else Jiyong is going to think he’s actually, really, very, weird. The words “come in” manage to escape his lips and he remembers to stand aside to let Jiyong through the door, but the hallway is cramped and they keep knocking into each other as Jiyong bends down to slip off his shoes and Seunghyun carries on staring. He leads him down the hallway and into the kitchen, listening to the soft padding of Jiyong’s socks against the hardword flooring. He finally finds his words and does an awkward tour of the flat, including the introduction of Daesung’s bike (christened Jermaine) and his favourite mug (it has a picture of a fox with the tagline “I don’t give a fox”). Jiyong laughs the whole way through his tour, even though Seunghyun has, at best, an unusual sense of humour. Which is nice.

But Jiyong is quiet as he looks around Seunghyun’s room, taking in the house plants and the Scandinavian minimalist furniture and the stacks and stacks of coffee table books that no one but Seunghyun actually reads. He rarely has people in his room, and if he does he’s usually too busy sucking their cock to worry about what they think of his room, so Seunghyun doesn’t really know what to do. He quickly remembers to throw his used tissues in the bin and wipe down the cigarette ash on his desk, but apart from that he feels pretty exposed. His dirty clothes are heaped in several piles all over his room and there are even a couple of condom wrappers on the floor, which Jiyong’s gaze _definitely_ lingers on. 

Daesung says his room, his _aesthetic_ , is nice, if Seunghyun was a middle aged, single, career woman with a drug addiction. But Jiyong looks up to meet Seunghyun’s gaze and says, with no sarcasm or derision or anything but honesty;

“I _love_ your aesthetic” 

And Seunghyun falls a little bit in love with him.


	4. We look like tigers

“How much have you done?” Jiyong asks, as they sit cross legged on the floor, opposite each other. Jiyong’s tied his hair up into a bun and it’s making Seunghyun a bit sad not being able to watch it bounce. “I think we can finish this essay tonight, get a couple of hours sleep tomorrow and then you can treat me to that date you promised me as a thank you” and he winks at Seunghyun who blinks back, twice. 

Jiyong, it turns out, is really fucking smart and works really fucking hard, and Seunghyun is very much in awe as he watches Jiyong smash away at the keyboard on his Macbook. 4 hours and 36 cigarettes later and the essay is finished. It’s 5 am and the city is starting to wake up, the sky turning orange as the sun begins to rise and the street lights begin to dim. Their socks are brushing against each other and their empty packets of Benson and Hedges (Seunghyun’s) and Marlborough Menthols (Jiyong’s, the rich fucker) become roaches for the joints Jiyong starts to roll. He has small, neat fingers that make rolling look like art and he looks ridiculously attractive when focusing on the joints. The first few rays of sunlight dance on his face, casting shadows underneath his eyelashes as he sticks his tongue out to lick the papers.

“You want your own? Or shall we share?” Jiyong asks, and Seunghyun snaps back to reality. 

“Let’s share” He says, and Jiyong leans over, places the joint in Seunghyun’s mouth and holds up the lighter. Their faces are so close that Seunghyun can see every stubble, every pore on Jiyong’s face. He sees the way Jiyong’s eyelashes curl, the way sweat beads on his forehead, the way his lips crack when he smiles and it’s _beautiful_. Jiyong lights the blunt for him and Seunghyun is sucking in, feeling the familiar thick smoke crawl down his throat. He doesn’t plan on it, and maybe it’s the lack of sleep and caffeine crash making him a bit delirious, but suddenly he’s blowing his second puff into into Jiyong’s mouth and in a heartbeat his lips are on Jiyong’s, tasting the cigarettes and the weed and whatever Jiyong had for dinner. Jiyong motions to take the joint but Seunghyun grabs his hands and places them on his hips, pushing his body towards Jiyong’s. Jiyong makes a small moan as Seunghyun bites his lip, and that’s all the encouragement Seunghyun needs. His hands are in Jiyong’s hair, tugging out the bun and twirling the strands around his fingers. 

The joint is forgotten and gathering ash, burning a small hole on Seunghyun’s carpet but they’re both too wrapped up in what is happening to care. Jiyong takes Seunghyun’s hand and gets him on the bed, his hands travelling down to Seunghyun’s belt. Seunghyun pushes his hands down and presses into Jiyong, moving his body to lie on top of Jiyong. In a flash they’re naked, and Seunghyun’s putting a condom on but he’s so frantic it fucking _snaps_ , and then Jiyong’s shaking with laughter, covering his face with his hands as he sits naked on Seunghyun’s bed. Seunghyun starts to laugh too, and then they’re both crying with laughter, naked, on Seunghyun’s bed. They lie back on the bed with their heads touching, gasping for breath as their laughter dies. Sunlight streams through the blinds on the window, and the room is the colour of a sunset and their bodies are covered with stripes of light.

“We look like tigers” Jiyong says, and Seunghyun thinks that tigers must be his favourite animals. But before he can say this to Jiyong, Jiyong is fast asleep. All Seunghyun can hear are Jiyong's deep breaths in his ear, in, out, in, out. Soon his own deep breaths are joining them as he drifts off into sleep, vaguely aware of Jiyong's hand on his thigh and his hair tickling his cheek.


	5. Like, crazy

It’s 7:47 when Seunghyun wakes up, greeted by a cloud of smoke. Jiyong is sitting on the edge of his bed, with Seunghyun’s favourite bath robe (a silky, navy blue robe with white blossom flowers on it (gayer than the gay kid from Glee according to Daesung)) draped over his shoulders and a joint in one hand. The sun has gone down and artificial light from the streetlights outside casts shadows over Jiyong’s back, his spinal cord making bumps against the silk bathrobe. Like a mountain range, Seunghyun thinks blearily, in the middle of waking up. He’s still naked and there’s a small line of dribble down his cheek, in short, he’s probably looked better than right now. 

Jiyong turns to face him and, wordlessly, wipes the dribble off his cheek with one hand and slides the joint in between his lips with the other. Seunghyun takes several drags and tries to move to cover his penis, fully aware that Jiyong’s eyes are roaming all over his body. He coughs from the weed, breaking Jiyong from his reverie and bringing his eyes back up to meet Seunghyun’s.

“Thought you’d never wake up, buddy”

Buddy.

“I’m a deep sleeper” Seunghyun says apologetically, and shrugs as he takes a few more drags from the joint. Jiyong nips it from his hands and slips it back in his mouth, blowing the smoke from his drag into Seunghyun’s face. 

“Get dressed, you still owe me that date. I’m giving you 20 minutes before I walk out of this flat for you to never see me again” He says with a smile and stubs the end of the joint out into an overflowing ashtray. “Mind if I go get some water?” Seunghyun shakes his head to say, no, do whatever you like, and somehow Jiyong manages to look elegant whilst clambering over Seunghyun’s shit on the floor and wearing the bath robe of gayness that doesn’t quite cover his manly bits. The joint has done its trick and Seunghyun also leaves his bed, stumbling into his bathroom in a haze and stepping into the shower. He blasts himself with cold water in an attempt to wake up, and just as the fog in his mind is beginning to clear the door to his tiny bathroom opens. 

Jiyong steps in, still in the bathrobe, and moves to sit down on the toilet seat opposite the shower, gently smiling as he watches shock take over Seunghyun’s face and his hands scramble in vain to cover himself. 

“So I met your flatmate, Daesung” Jiyong shouts over the sound of the falling water, as Seunghyun tries to angle his body away from Jiyong’s gaze. “nice guy, definitely saw my dick though”. Seunghyun chokes, imagining Dae’s face and the absolute bollocking he’s definitely going to get from the younger man later. He catches Jiyong’s eyes through the shower glass, the water droplets distorting his face into something out of this world, and they both start laughing. Seunghyun’s laughing so hard he’s gripping onto the shelf in the shower for support, all thoughts of modesty out of the window, and Jiyong is rocking back and forth with laughter, his orange hair bouncing like a pendulum. 

He turns off the tap, still laughing, and steps out of the shower. He wraps a towel (definitely hasn’t been washed in a while) around his body as Jiyong stays sat on the toilet seat, one leg over the other and arms resting gracefully on his knees, looking up at Seunghyun.

“Do you want to borrow some clothes?” Seunghyun asks.

“I doubt anything you have will fit me, but thanks” Jiyong answers, as he springs up from the toilet seat and makes his way out of the bathroom. He stops in the doorway and turns back to Seunghyun. “Besides, hopefully I wont be wearing clothes for long tonight” he says with a wink, and Seunghyun goes blank. He forgets to hold up his towel and it falls to the ground. He swallows, loudly, and a blush floods his face. Jiyong fucking _giggles_. 

They get ready together. Jiyong laughs at the way Seunghyun crosses his eyes as he fills in his eyebrows and Seungyun laughs at the way Jiyong actually takes six tries to get the perfect messy bun. Then they’re finally out of the door and Seunghyun is following in Jiyong’s footsteps, watching his head shake from side to side and his arms wave about in perfect arcs as he talks. He speeds up to match pace with Jiyong, close enough that they hands bump into each other’s thighs and he can hear Jiyong’s quickened breaths as they walk. 

“My flatmate, Seungri, he’s on our course too. I told him I was meeting up with you and, you know what he said?” Jiyong asks, and he slows down as he talks, swivelling his gaze to focus on Seunghyun. Seunghyun gently tugs Jiyong out of the way of an older lady who definitely wasn’t going to move and tries to think of who Seungri is. No idea.

“No idea” Seunghyun says, and moves Jiyong out of the way of yet another pedestrian. He really wishes Jiyong would stop looking at him and actually pay attention to the fucking street.

Jiyong takes a deep breath and says with more enthusiasm than Seunghyun has ever seen; “Hyung! You know I’m not into that shit, but with those cheekbones that boy could suck me off any day of the week!” Seunghyun chokes on air and sends an apologetic look to a mother and her child walking past them.

He’s blushing again and just about manages an “oh, that’s nice” before shutting up completely. Jiyong flashes him with a grin and grips his hand and although Seunghyun is slightly worried about his clammy hands and Jiyong’s vice like grip that might break his fingers, he can’t help but grin back.


	6. Weird

They’re still holding hands as Jiyong leads Seunghyun into the restaurant. It’s an Indian restaurant and honestly the weirdest place Seunghyun has ever been to. The five waiters stare unashamedly at them as they walk in and it is then that Seunghyun realises they’re the only customers there. Everything is tinged with a strange fluorescent blue light and the 3 tvs in the room are all playing the same Bollywood film but at different times. One waiter leads them over to a table next to the window. A vase of fake flowers on top sits on top of the white table cloth and Jiyong grabs a pink one, grasps it between his teeth and holds out his hand to Seunghyun. 

“Your table awaits, my lady” He tries to say, but the flower gets in the way and it comes out as a mumble. Seunghyun giggles, and Seunghyun never giggles, and the waiter sighs audibly. The warm glow from the candles on the table lights up Jiyong’s hair, making the only splash of colour in a sea of blue, and Seunghyun is so captivated by this that he almost forgets to order wine before the waiter can leave. Almost. 

“I’ll be right back” Jiyong says, before following the waiter and weaving his way through the restaurant. Seunghyun watches him go and then focuses on the menu, trying to find something that isn’t too spicy and wont make him shit himself during sex. Jiyong comes back to the table, followed by the waiter, trying to stifle a grin that Seunghyun catches on to. 

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, just happy I’m out at dinner with such a beautiful man” Jiyong replies, and the grin takes over his whole face. “Anyway, what are you going to order?”

“I don’t know, do you come here much? What would you suggest?” Seunghyun asks, shaking his head.

“I come here all the time, isn’t it great?” Jiyong asks back, his eyes widening under his fringe. 

“It’s a bit weird. But I’m pretty weird too. I like weird.” And Jiyong beams at Seunghyun when he hears that.

“Go for the korma, you don’t strike me as someone who can handle spicy food” he says with a glint in his eye, but Seunghyun goes for a madras just to spite Jiyong and hands his menu back to the waiter. 

The service is terrible and the food makes his mouth burn and tears roll down his face, and usually he’d be furious. Now he doesn’t care. He’s completely enraptured by Jiyong. The way that he laughs every time Seunghyun tries to take another bite of his curry, the way that Jiyong listens to his weird stories with 126% of his focus, the way that Jiyong wipes off Seunghyun’s tears with his sleeves. He has a dull ache in his chest that grows sharper every time Jiyong smiles, and he doubts it has anything to do with the curry.

Half way through their second bottle of wine, they have moved from talking about their mutual friend Youngbae’s perpetual virginal state to the topic of Jiyong’s parents. They’re arseholes, Seunghyun concludes. Jiyong doesn’t offer many words on the subject, but Seunghyun has never seen him this reserved about something in the, admittedly short, time he’s known him. But Seunghyun thinks this is probably too heavy for a first date topic and Jiyong’s gaze is practically burning a hole in the table top, so they both try to change the conversation. 

“What’s your favourite TV show?” Seunghyun asks, and at the same time Jiyong reaches his arm over to hold Seunghyun’s hand and says;

“I really like you, Seunghyun”

And Seunghyun stares, mouth open and eyes wide.

“Mine’s Game of Thrones” is out of his mouth before he can stop it. Jiyong has just told him how much he likes him, and he has just told how much he likes Game of Thrones. Jiyong leans his head to one side, his hair dangling down, and snorts. Seunghyun tries to backtrack and say something better but he’s like a deer caught in headlights, stuttering and running into traffic. 

“I like you-“ he manages to cough out, but then he’s even more caught off-guard as the sound of 2 waiters singing ‘happy birthday’ floods his ears. They’re standing right next to their table and holding a cake with candles, singing to _him_. Seunghyun jerks his head to stare at them instead of Jiyong, mouth even more open and eyes even wider, as they carry on with the song. He steals a look at Jiyong to see the younger boy doubled over in laughter, smacking his hands on his thighs and rocking back and forth on his chair. The waiters have finished singing and Seunghyun mumbles thank you, blowing out the candles, which must be bad luck to do if it’s not your birthday, he thinks. They leave as Jiyong is wiping his hands under his eyes and gasping for breath.

“Happy birthday!” he says, and for a split second Seunghyun is tempted to go along with it so he doesn’t hurt Jiyong’s feelings, but Seunghyun isn’t that smart. 

“It’s not” He says, still bewildered. And Jiyong smacks his hand over Seunghyun’s mouth.

“I know you idiot! Don’t let the waiters know” He hisses, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I told them it was your birthday, they always do really nice birthday celebrations.” And Seunghyun is still bewildered. Jiyong sees the look on his face and takes pity, explaining how he likes going to restaurants and pretending that it is people’s birthdays, but, he says, he’s quickly running out of restaurants and people to do it to. Seunghyun, still flustered, then explains how he thinks Jiyong is clinically insane, and Jiyong points out that he isn’t the one with 20 individually named house plants in his room. Which is fair enough. 

They take the uneaten cake and the dregs of the bottle of wine with them as they leave the restaurant. It’s deep into the night now and the cold wind should be biting, but the alcohol in his blood system and the feeling of Jiyong next to him is enough to keep him warm. They hold hands again, their arms swinging and their feet a little bit out of step with each others.

“I never got to tell you before you pulled that weird stunt” he says as he tips his head back to swig the last of the wine. Jiyong pouts at “weird”. 

“I never got to tell you that I like you too” And this is the first time he’s ever said it to anyone, the first time he’s ever felt like this for anyone, the first time he’s been this happy. The smile he gets from Jiyong is worth all the embarrassing birthday celebrations in the world.


	7. Up and coming like I'm fucking in an elevator

They stumble back into Seunghyun’s building hand in hand, with their spare hands clutching empty wine bottles, and the second the lift doors close Jiyong is gripping his jacket, pulling his body into Seunghyun’s and and kissing him deeply. Jiyong’s breath smells of wine, and Seunghyun’s senses are intoxicated. If he hadn’t already had two bottles of wine he would probably say something now, but all he can do is moan and stabilize himself by gripping onto the walls of the lift as Jiyong presses their bodies closer. The lift starts to go up and Jiyong starts to crouch down, stroking his hands along Seunghyun’s torso until they reach his waist. And as much as Seunghyun wants to fulfil the lifetime fantasy that he never knew he had of getting fucked in a lift, he’s never been that adventurous and the adrenaline coursing through his body is starting to sober him up, so he tugs Jiyong gently back up by his hair, his hands entwined in the unwashed and tangled strands. 

“Shame, I always wanted to watch myself having sex” Jiyong says, looking into Seunghyun’s eyes through the mirrors on the walls to prove his point. 

“Just film yourself, fucking pervert” Seunghyun replies, leaning back into the wall with his hands still wrapped in Jiyong’s hair. Jiyong giggles and hides his face in Seunghyun’s jacket, which is pretty much the cutest thing Seunghyun has seen all week. He leads Jiyong this time, taking his hand as they exit the lift and make their way to Seunghyun’s door. He props his body up against the wall as he rummages in his pockets for his keys, but quickly decides he didn’t actually bring them. They both start to ring the doorbell, giggling at nothing and leaning against each other’s shoulders. Daesung comes to open the door after the 5th time Seunghyun rings the door bell to find them struggling to stay upright. They manage to offer him apologetic faces but he shoots them a murderous look anyway before disappearing back to his room, and suddenly they’re alone again. 

Jiyong is on him before Seunghyun has time to think. His shoes are still on and he’s still clutching an empty wine bottle but Jiyong is dragging him down the hallway into his room. A couple of Seunghyun’s houseplants clatter to the ground, dirt falling onto the floor, as he’s shoved onto his bed, the covers and sheets still rumpled from the previous night. 

“There’s condoms in the second drawer” He manages to gasp before Jiyong bites his lip, running his hands through Seunghyun’s hair and wrapping his legs around his waist. 

“It’s fine, I’m clean” Jiyong says, in between pressing kisses onto Seunghyun’s neck. 

“Jiyong.” Seunghyun says, not laughing anymore. He looks into the other boy’s eyes and feels his body stiffen on top of his own. 

“Fine, I’ll get it” and he climbs off Seunghyun and scrambles around in his drawers. The atmosphere has changed and Seunghyun bites his lip nervously, confused at the slight tension in the younger boy. Jiyong’s back arches as he fishes around in his drawers for longer than is probably needed, and sighs a little bit louder than is probably necessary. But he turns round to Seunghyun, flourishing a condom wrapper in his hand and flashing a smile, and in a heartbeat the atmosphere is back to normal. Any doubts Seunghyun had have vanished as Jiyong makes his way back to Seunghyun and he can’t think of anything except the right now. Jiyong unbuckles his belt and slides his hand down Seunghyun’s pants, quickening his pace once he hears Seunghyun’s sharp intake of breath. His hand wraps around Seunghyun’s cock and tugs gently as Seunghyun closes his eyes and allows Jiyong to push him back into the bed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They lie back panting, both completely spent. Seunghyun is vaguely aware of Jiyong’s head resting on his chest before he drifts off to sleep. When he wakes up a few hours later, daylight is pouring into the room and Jiyong’s head is still on his chest, the light bouncing off his orange strands and onto Seunghyun’s body. He briefly thinks that he could lie like this forever, but his mouth feels like sandpaper and he _really_ needs to pee, so he slowly slides out from underneath Jiyong, cradling his head and placing it down on the pillow. As he treads over his carpet to his bathroom his feet pick up dirt from his houseplants and he feels a stab of guilt that he might have hurt them. His mother always said he was too sentimental towards inanimate objects. 

He staggers into the kitchen after peeing to get a glass of water and as he’s reaching into the dishwasher to find a semi-clean glass he hears an exasperated;

“ _Jesus_ , Seunghyun” 

He spins around to find Daesung, shielding his eyes with his hands and a blush creeping up his neck. Seunghyun only then remembers that he’s still naked and tries to clutch his glass in front of his penis, but the glass is transparent and only works to distort it. Daesung notices his failed attempt and laughs, turning to face the wall instead of his naked flat mate.

“We need to have a serious talk about modesty, mate” He says through his laughter. Seunghyun is still sleepy and can’t seem to form a sentence, just manages a gruff;

“Sorry” and clears his throat. He’s still clutching the glass in front of his dick and Daesung is still facing the wall when Seunghyun’s door opens to reveal a fully clothed Jiyong. The smaller boy stands awkwardly in the doorway and offers Seunghyun a tight smile.

“I need to go now. Seungri will worry about me” 

“Yeah, yeah sure, call me?” Seunghyun says and immediately wants to disappear through the cracks in the fake-wood flooring. _Call me_.

“Mhm” Jiyong nods and walks through the kitchen, into the hallway and out the door, his eyes burning a hole on the floor the whole time. He manages to leave the flat faster than Seunghyun has seen anyone do, even faster than a one night stand who once woke Seunghyun up by saying “fuck, I have a boyfriend”. Seunghyun’s eyes follow him as he leaves and then stay fixed on the door, perplexed. 

“That was weird, right?” he asks Daesung, who nods in agreement and then tells him to put some fucking clothes on before he considers going to live with Youngbae. Christian Youngbae who would never greet Daesung in the mornings with his penis dangling into the dishwasher. Seunghyun’s eyes stay on the door Jiyong just left from, a frown forming on his face and worry bubbling in his chest. He hears Daesung sigh and leave to go back into his bedroom, but Seunghyun can’t seem to get his body to move.


	8. He likes you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seunghyun and Seunghyun and Jiyong

A few days go by without hearing from Jiyong, so Seunghyun messages him. Nothing serious, just a “hey buddy, do you want to meet up again at some point?”. Casual, vague, non-threatening, Seunghyun’s three favourite things. Then 2 weeks crawl by. No call, no text from Jiyong. For the first time in his University life he attends every lecture and seminar, but his grades don’t match his improved attendance as he spends every hour craning his neck trying to find a specific shade of orange. Eventually he spots Seungri, Jiyong’s flatmate, in one of his classes. He’s died his hair a brilliant shade of white, and Seunghyun makes a beeline for it before Seungri can leave the class along with everyone else.

“Choi Seunghyun!” Seungri says, as he spots Seunghyun coming down the stairs towards him. Seunghyun’s hands dangle at his sides and Seungri reaches out to clasp one of them in his. He shakes Seunghyun’s hand as if they’re in a business meeting in Canary Wharf and Seunghyun’s nostrils flare involuntarily. “I’m Seunghyun too, but call me Seungri” He says quickly, excitedly. Seunghyun remembers Jiyong saying that Seungri wants Seunghyun to suck him off, or something along those lines, and blushes at the thought. 

“Yeah, I know. Um, you live with Jiyong, right?” He says slowly, hoping his monotone will calm Seungri down. It doesn’t work. In between packing his things into his bag with the speed of a squirrel preparing for hibernation, he looks up at Seunghyun and nods frantically, his white hair bouncing the same way Jiyong’s does. 

“Is he ok? I haven’t heard from him in a while, bit worried I’ve done something to offend him” Seunghyun laughs awkwardly as he finishes his sentence. He tries to smile but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and Seungri looks back at him with something akin to pity. His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes either. 

“He’s a bit sick, just give him time.” He answers, and hesitates, before; “he likes you, he just needs a bit of time to get better” He says, flashes another limp smile at Seunghyun and shrugs. Seunghyun stares, confused, because; a. Seungri’s explanation doesn’t really explain anything, and b. Seunghyun can’t think of anything else except _‘he likes you’_. 

“We better get going to our next class, coming?” Seungri asks, breaking Seunghyun from his thoughts. 

“I haven’t done the readings.” 

He really hasn’t.

“It’s fine, copy off me” Seungri smiles a proper smile at him now, and Seunghyun’s still confused because; a. _‘He likes you’_ , and b. this boy is being _ridiculously_ friendly to him. But he walks with him to their next class anyway, and Seungri talks and talks and _talks_. He wonders how Jiyong deals with this all the time and at the same time decides he kind of likes it. Seungri’s voice fills the empty space between them and by the time they get to their next class Seunghyun almost feels like they’re friends. 

They sit down next to each other and get out their things. Or rather, Seungri gets out his things. Seunghyun pulls his one pen out of his pocket and then chews his nails, fixing his gaze on the desk in front of him. It’s a struggle not to compare himself to the other students in the class, with their Macbook pros and colour coded notes and perfectly stocked pencil cases. Seungri starts texting someone, and he can’t help but notice the way Seungri angles his phone away from him. His mind goes straight to Jiyong and he can’t really focus on anything the lecturer says because _Jiyong might be on the other end of that phone_. It’s stupid. Fucking ridiculous. He’s known this boy for about 3 weeks and only spent a few days with him, only hours of which were awake and fewer spent sober, but he can’t get him off his mind. 

Half way through the class and Seunghyun is still thinking about Jiyong, until Seungri leans over and whispers;

“Jiyong is coming to Starbucks after class, wanna come meet him?”

All thoughts of Jiyong briefly fly out of his mind as he tries to remember how to form a sentence. 

“Y-yes” He manages to whisper back, stuttering on a one word answer. Seungri smiles and gets back to taking notes. Seunghyun smiles and gets back to thinking about Jiyong. Once the class is finished Seungri barely gives him time to stand up before he’s sliding his arm through Seunghyun’s, and again Seunghyun finds his nostrils flaring involuntarily. 

“Allons-y!” Seungri shouts, and Seunghyun has to grit his teeth to stop him trying to snap Seungri’s arm in two. They walk the whole way to Starbucks arm in arm, since Seunghyun can’t seem to find a way to manoeuvre his body that will allow him to slide his arm out from Seungri’s iron-like grip. Unbelievably, Seungri manages to cover topics ranging from his new hair colour to his parents divorce when he was 7 during the short walk, and Seunghyun can barely fit an “mhm” into the conversation. 

“You don’t really talk much, bro” He says, as he lets go of Seunghyun’s arm to open the glass door into Starbucks. Seunghyun snorts, but his smart reply is lost before it can escape his mouth as he looks through the glass and his eyes lock onto a mop of orange hair. The orange is less intense now, and sitting on top of a boy that’s slightly thinner with slightly more pronounced under-eye bags than Seunghyun remembers. But it still takes his breath away for a second. They sit down at Jiyong’s table, Seungri says hi and slaps Jiyong’s back but Seunghyun can barely manage eye contact. It’s more than a bit awkward, them sitting opposite each other with a thousand unsaid words (at least from Seunghyun) hanging between them. Seungri fills the silence, talking at the speed of light with his gaze flitting between Seunghyun and Jiyong as he tries to engage them in conversation. Seunhyun orders a ham and cheese croissant, just so he has something to do, and is acutely aware of Jiyong staring at him the whole time.

“You’re annoyed at me” Jiyong eventually says, cutting through Seungri’s anecdote about their lecturer telling him off before he’d actually done anything wrong. Seungri’s mouth stays open as he leans back in his seat, fed up. Seunghyun never thought about being annoyed. Annoyed never came into it. But now Jiyong mentions it, yes, yes he was fucking annoyed. He wants to tell Jiyong this, to ask him how he could so quickly worm his way into Seunghyun’s daily life and then leave just as fast, with only wrinkled bed sheets and used condoms to convince Seunghyun that he wasn’t imagining anything.

But one look at the bags under Jiyong’s eyes has Seunghyun stopping before he’s even started. So he just shrugs, and focuses on his ham and cheese croissant. 

“I can make it up to you. I’ve got a bunch of new interior design magazines and I rolled a bunch of joints, just for you. How about I come over?” Jiyong says, like he knows Seunghyun’s weakness. It’s a good thing Seunghyun’s sitting down, because he’s gone weak at the knees, and it isn’t the thought of home-ware or weed that’s doing it to him. 

“Yeah, yeah cool” He says gruffly, and Jiyong stands up abruptly. 

“You have your keys right, Seungri? I’ll see you sometime tomorrow I guess” Seungri and Seunghyun both look up at Jiyong with their mouths open.

“Now?” Seunghyun asks through a mouthful of croissant, shocked. He’s holding his plate underneath his mouth to catch stray crumbs and tries to put it down gently, but misses the table and the plate clatters to the floor, sending flakes of pastry floating down to the floor. He chokes on the food still in his mouth, as Seungri laughs louder than anything Seunghyun has ever heard and Jiyong smiles gently at him.

“Yes now, before you die from eating a fucking French pastry, preferably.” At that they smile at each other, and would probably stay smiling at each other where it not for Seungri laughing so hard he starts to choke on air. Jiyong rolls his eyes and takes Seunghyun’s hand in his, croissant crumbs, sweat and all. They leave Seungri behind alone on the table, wiping tears from under his eyes.


	9. Autumn

They’re three joints in and flicking through catalogues of minimalist furniture as they sit side by side, their backs resting against Seunghyun’s bed. His room is still as much as a mess as the last time Jiyong came over, and he’s pretty sure he saw a mildly disgusted look on the younger boy’s face when they walked in. They pass the joint between each other until Seunghyun stubs it out, noticing how Jiyong’s blinks are getting longer and longer and his head is tilting further and further until it rests on Seunghyun’s shoulders. The smoke from the joint curls around their heads, making the room as foggy as Seunghyun’s head feels. Through the haze Jiyong looks lazily up at him and his lips slowly form a crooked smile.

“You make me happy, being with you is happy” Jiyong says and he laughs because he can’t get the right words out, coughing from the smoke. Seunghyun would reply, but the weed is making it impossible and Jiyong’s words have given him a weird ache in his chest. Instead he tries to hold Jiyong’s hand, his fingers moving clumsily to fit in between Jiyong’s, who looks up at him again and puts his hand around Seunghyun’s neck, using it to pull his body up and into Seunghyun’s. Their lips meet and Seunghyun takes a few seconds to register what is happening before kissing Jiyong back.

They end up having sex on top of Jiyong’s magazines, and it’s slow and clumsy and Seunghyun has to keep checking in case Jiyong has fallen asleep. Seunghyun lights up another joint afterwards and watches as Jiyong falls asleep on his floor, his naked body lying on top of crinkled magazine sheets and tobacco ash. Maybe it’s the weed talking, but it’s impossible that anyone could be this perfect, Seunghyun decides, as he watched Jiyong’s slender frame rise and fall with each breath. 

It’s not that late and he’s got a bad case of the munchies, so puts some clothes back on and wanders into the kitchen, his mind still foggy from the THC. He goes straight for the left over pizza (left over from when, he doesn’t know or care) that’s sitting on top of the microwave and finds Game of Thrones on the TV. He’s gotten so into it that he doesn’t hear Jiyong flopping his body down onto the sofa next to him, only recognizing his presence once he sees a bony arm reach for his pizza. 

“Who are you most like?” Jiyong asks, leaning back on the sofa and smirking as he lifts his stolen slice of pizza to his mouth. But Seunghyun is distracted by Jiyong’s naked body and the fact that he now has one less slice of pizza, and just stares at Jiyong.

“In Game of Thrones, who are you most like?” Jiyong clarifies. “I’m Missandei, 100%”. Seunghyun is still distracted by the way Jiyong’s body curves with the sofa, but manages a snort in response, this time. 

“What is this from, a buzzfeed quiz?” 

“Please, you’re eating pizza that was in your kitchen the last time I was here and yet you have the nerve to judge me? Just answer the question.” 

And with that Jiyong nudges Seunghyun with his bare foot, smiling as he sees Seunghyun’s nostrils flare. 

“Fine, I’m Ned Stark.”

Jiyong leans forward with his elbows on his legs and rests his head between his hands. 

“Why?” 

“Tries his best, but just ends up a sweaty dead mess in the end” He says, laughing, but Jiyong just stares at him. “Why are you Missandei, then?” He asks, slightly defensively. 

“Smart, silently judging, hot as fuck, do I need more reasons?” Jiyong bites back quickly. 

Seunghyun snorts and shakes his head. He moves his feet to knock Jiyongs elbows off his legs and replace them with his own legs, leaning back to lie down on the sofa. Jiyong starts playing with his feet and they watch the TV in a comfortable silence, until Seunghyun gradually finds it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. Eventually they both fall asleep in that position, chests rising and falling in sync and Jiyong’s hands still clutching Seunghyun’s feet.

It’s 2pm when Seunghyun wakes up, with the heat from the afternoon sun creating beads of sweat on his forehead. He has a bad ache in his neck from his awkward sleeping position and as he rolls his head around in an attempt to loosen his muscles he remembers Jiyong, or rather, notices the absence of Jiyong. The other end of the sofa is empty, but for a post it note stuck to the fabric, and Seunghyun groans as he pulls his body up into a sitting position in order to read the note.

“Thanks, I’ll call. 

Jiyong”

The note reads, with a little smiley face scrawled on the top corner. For fucks sake. 

Weeks pass like this. They meet, get fucked, fuck each other, sleep and then Jiyong leaves, usually before Seunghyun has a chance to wake up. October turns into November as the days start to get shorter and the nights start to get longer, welcoming in Seunghyun’s favourite time of the year. He tells Jiyong about this, about how if Autum were all year round he wouldn’t mind one bit, and the next morning, instead of disappearing back to his flat, Jiyong asks him to go for a walk with him, since the sun is shining and the air is crisp and it’s the perfect Autumn day. They end up in Hyde Park, where the grass is frosty and leaves on the trees have turned the same shade of orange as Jiyong’s hair and fallen to the ground. They walk hand in hand over the fallen leaves, and Seunghyun has always loved the sound of dead leaves crunching beneath his feet, but he loves it even more now that there are another set of feet next to his. 

After that day he barely here’s from Jiyong, unless its for the younger boy to cancel plans they make together. He tells Daesung about it over a Chinese one night, tells him how Jiyong has wormed his way into Seunghyun’s life and then done a vanishing act, and about how Seunghyun never knows whether he should just let Jiyong disappear for good because he never knows when he’ll come back. Daesung then tells Seunghyun, in no uncertain terms, that he should “shove a fucking hot iron up Jiyong’s arse”. And part of Seunghyun agrees. But another, bigger, part of him is almost addicted to Jiyong. He’s intoxicating, and Seunghyun is ok with ending up on the floor crying if it means a few hours with him. 

“Youngbae says he thinks Jiyong is a bit fucked up, you know, in the head” Daesung says one day, after listening to Seunghyun complain again. He shrugs, like it’s the most casual thing to say in the world, and leaves the kitchen, leaving Seunghyun sitting on the sofa to think about what Daesung just said. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed the way Jiyong’s hair gets duller each time they meet, the way that Jiyong never seems to leave his flat except to see Seunghyun, or the way that, if he’s brutally honest, Jiyong seems to have been falling apart in front of his eyes. He slowly starts to realise that Youngbae might be right, in a way.

He doesn’t really know what to do. He’s always been the mess, the one needing help from other people. He tries to type out a couple of texts to Jiyong ,but deletes them all straight away and spends the next few days agonizing over what, if anything, he should do. Daesung reminds him several times that in the grand scheme of things he’s only known Jiyong for about 2 months, and that he doesn’t actually owe him anything. And a part of Seunghyun agrees, he doesn’t really know the boy that well and if he’s being honest, Jiyong’s been kind of a dick to him sometimes. But again, the other, bigger, part of him is still intoxicated by Jiyong. He can’t get over the fact that he’s never felt this way about a guy before. Seunghyun was always a wam, bam, thank you ma’am, guy, but around Jiyong he’s a wam, bam, thank you ma’am I’ll stay for dinner and maybe marry you one day, guy. Fucking awful.

Finally he asks Jiyong if he wants to meet up, to which Jiyong messages back a couple of hours later to say yes. They meet up that same night for a Nandos because, Seunghyun figures, no matter how bad things are, there’s nothing that a Nandos can’t fix. He orders a half chicken (hot) and chips (with peri peri salt) and waits for Jiyong to join him at the table. When the smaller boy sits down opposite him he can’t take his eyes off the dark hair at Jiyong’s roots, or ignore the way his smile lands so far away from his eyes, but he has no idea how to go about asking if he’s, like, _ok_ ok. They’ve got a bottle of Sauvignon shared between them and Jiyong gradually livens up and Seunghyun gradually loosens up. 

They go back to Seunghyun’s afterwards, as always, and drink more, as always. And eventually Seunghyun thinks he may have worked up the courage to ask Jiyong if he’s ok, as he’s lying on the floor with Jiyong’s head in his lap, twirling strands of matted hair around his fingers. 

“Why did you die your hair orange?” Is what comes out of his mouth, instead, though. He hears Jiyong take a big breath in and feels his head shift on top of his body as he exhales. 

“I went through a rough time, a while ago. Decided to change my look when things started to get better, ya know? Went for orange ‘cus it kinda reminds me that the sun always rises again” He gives a small, quiet laugh. His voice is low and he makes an effort to look away from Seunghyun. 

“What was your rough time?” He asks softly. The room is so quiet he can hear Jiyong swallow. 

“I have SAD. Seasonal affective disorder. Means I get pretty sad around winter." Jiyong says. He speaks slowly and quietly, focusing on his fingernails rather than Seunghyun. "Fucking awful name for a disorder; sad" He adds and laughs again, louder this time. 

“Shit” Seunghyun murmurs, and his hands stop working their way through Jiyong’s hair.

“Its fine this year, to be honest. Think I hit rock bottom last year, so anything’s gotta be up from there, right?” Jiyong adds as an after thought, still avoiding Seunghyun’s gaze.


	10. Cheap hookers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daesung gets lucky

The rest of the night goes the same as all the other nights they’ve spent together and, like all the previous mornings after, the other half of the bed is empty when he wakes up. It’s only 7am and as much as he tries to go back to sleep, his mind is racing. He stares at the ceiling, his mind going over and over Jiyong’s confession, until he hears Daesung moving about the kitchen. Seunghyun rolls slowly out of bed and walks around the mess on his floor, picking up his favourite bath robe and draping it over his shoulders before going to meet Daesung in the other room. Daesung is facing the other way, so Seunghyun clears his throat to announce his presence and is taken aback when Daesung spins around faster than is humanely possible, his eyebrows disappeared into his hair and his mouth wide open.

“You’re up early, jesus! Nearly gave me a heart attack.” Daesung says, clutching his chest. 

“I couldn’t sleep” Seunghyun says, dragging a chair out from beneath the kitchen table. It makes a loud noise and Daesung’s gaze flits towards his room. 

“Is something up?” Daesung asks, his attention back to Seunghyun. He goes to sit down at the kitchen table opposite Seunghyun, a frown forming on his face. But before Seunghyun can answer, a girl wanders into the kitchen, wearing only a long t-shirt she’s borrowed from Daesung and rubbing sleep from her eyes. She stops abruptly when she notices Seunghyun sitting at the breakfast table in his underwear and a blush floods her face. She mumbles something before turning round and heading right back into Daesung’s room, and Seunghyun looks back and forth between Daesung and where the girl has just disappeared to. Daesung opens his mouth but no words come out, so Seunghyun leans forward in his chair and whispers furiously to Daesung;

“Hyori?! Hyori Lee?” 

Daesung shrugs in response, a small smile creeping up on his face.

“The same Hyori Lee, that I kissed once in year three, is now sleeping with my Daesungie?” 

In a split second Daesung’s face goes the shade of beetroot and he looks like he’s considering throwing his glass of water at Seunghyun’s head. He doesn’t, and chooses to ignore Seunghyun’s last question by bringing them back to their original conversation. 

“Were you going to explain to me why you couldn’t sleep?”

And Seunghyun really wants to tell him about Jiyong, really wants Daesung’s help in sorting out the hurricane of thoughts currently whirling round his head, but he’s not that selfish. 

“No, it’s fine. Get back to your girl, Daesung, before her mind wanders back to the mysterious guy she kissed in year 3” 

“Well if that ever happens, I’ll let her know that that sweet, innocent boy grew up into a flaming homosexual that enjoys licking other men’s arseholes.” Daesung says with a smirk before going back into his room. Seunghyun tries hard to ignore the stab of envy he just felt towards Daesung and the increasingly heavy sense of loneliness in the bottom of his stomach. Jiyong’s words act as a heavy weight on Seunghyun’s chest all day. He can’t focus on any of his work for university and by 4pm he’s given up on studying in favour of a blunt that Jiyong left on his desk before he left this morning, alongside a post it note with a one of Jiyong’s smiley faces scrawled on it. He feels a bit like a cheap hooker, but he smokes the blunt down to the end as he sits cross legged on his floor, tending to his neglected house plants. Something in the back of his mind prompts him to pick up his phone and message Jiyong. It takes his clumsy fingers five tries before he manages to open up a blank text to Jiyong, and even more tries to actually type out a coherent sentence. 

“Thank you for the blunt” he sends off eventually. His eyes are crossing involuntarily as his hands try to play with the weak winter sun streaming in through his blinds and the warm orange light brings flashbacks of Jiyong’s smile and laugh, and of small hands roaming all over Seunghyun’s body. Something else in the back of his mind tells him that asking Jiyong to come over tonight is a good idea, so he sends a pathetically needy text and waits for hours for a reply. He doesn’t get one and goes to sleep by himself a few hours later, holding a pillow over his head to block out Daesung’s loud laugh and Hyori’s giggles. 

The next few weeks follow by Jiyong withdrawing further and further from him. His hair gradually goes back to its natural black and he smokes and drinks more each time they meet up. Seunghyun knows he should be worried and deep down he is, but he _doesn’t know what to do_. He feels hopeless, most of the time, like he’s watching a train crash. He can see what’s happening, knows he should do _something_ , but he can’t drive a fucking train. November has turns into December and before he knows it his mum is sending him pictures of the Christmas tree she’s put up. He shows the pictures to Jiyong one night, who’s been staring out of his window, his gaze fixed on the artificial light from the chicken shop opposite, for a while now. He gets a small smile in return and almost convinces himself that that’s enough, almost convinces himself he’s doing enough. But he watches Jiyong turn his head back to look out the window, hollow cheeks and under eye bags reflected in the glass, and feels sick to his stomach.

He could pull out now. He’s only known Jiyong for a few months, and he really doesn’t owe this boy anything. But every time he decides to give up, he _can’t_. Can’t get this scrawny boy with damaged hair and too many tattoos off his mind. When Jiyong is bad, it’s awful. But when he’s good, when he’s flashing Seunghyun his electric smile, or talking at a thousand words a minute, or writhing face down beneath Seunghyun’s body, it’s better than anything he’s ever had. So he clings on to Jiyong. Clings onto the nights when they smoke and fuck and clings onto the mornings when his bed is empty, save for the smell of sex and cigarette ash.

It’s been 2 weeks since he last heard from Jiyong when he decides to actually do something. He doesn’t have a plan, or even a vague idea, of what he’s going to do, but he’s sick of feeling useless. He has to start somewhere, so he messages Seungri for the first time to ask for their address. He’d been putting this off for weeks because, in Seunghyun’s eyes, it puts them firmly into ‘friends’ territory. And true to form, Seungri’s reply is as extra as the boy himself, with exclamation marks and irrelevant emojis scattered throughout, but he gives Seunghyun their address and Seunghyun even replies with a ‘thanks :)’ because, you know, karma. The address sits in his messages for a few days while Seunghyun bites his finger nails and thinks harder than he’s ever thought before. 

He’s grocery shopping in Tesco one day when an epiphany hits him with the speed of a tube train. He finally realises what he’s going to do and it’s a stupid, awful plan, but he picks up the box in front of him and heads to the checkouts straight away. There’s another 4 things on his grocery list but if he doesn’t go through with this now he’ll talk himself out of it, so he forgets about the potatoes and the noodles and practically throws his money at the bewildered cashier. He storms home and heads straight into his bathroom without making dinner, despite the angry protests coming from his stomach, and 30 minutes later he’s wiping condensation from the mirror to be greeted by a mess of his now bright orange hair.


	11. Cold Egg Fried Rice

Power walking at 11pm to Jiyong’s flat in the freezing cold, with his hair still wet and his body still damp, was not the best idea Seunghyun’s ever had. His hair is _still_ wet when he reaches Jiyong and Seungri’s building, but now he’s panting and sweating and he really needs to quit smoking for good because his lung capacity has not done him any favours tonight. Seunghyun scans Seungri’s messages for any mention of a flat number, but there’s nothing, and the list of flats is intimidatingly long. He swears out loud and his breath turns into fog in front of his eyes. Psyching himself up, he presses the buzzer for the first flat. No answer. It takes 5 buzzers before someone answers, but she has no idea who Jiyong or Seungri are and tells him to fuck off. Another two buzzers and he gets an old man asking Seunghyun if he is the Amazon prime delivery guy, and then where the fuck the Amazon prime delivery guy is since it definitely isn’t Seunghyun.

The longer he stands outside, the more his momentum wanes. His body is getting tired from shivering and it’s slowly dawning on him that this might not actually be a great idea. But then, and this must be how it feels to see an angel float down from heaven, 

“Hello?” 

Its Seungri. Seunghyun almost faints with relief. 

“Seungri! It’s me” He says, probably too enthusiastically, in between his teeth chattering. 

“Seunghyun? I’ll buzz you in, no problem bro” Seungri replies in the same nonchalant way he does everything, and the door clicks to unlock. Seunghyun steps into the lobby and calls the lift down to the floor. When it arrives, he is faced immediately by his new hair colour in the dirty mirror on the opposite wall. Stepping into the lift, he runs a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to tame it before he sees Jiyong and, probably subconsciously, his nerves as well. His nerves that are threatening to jump out of his throat, for reasons that he can’t quite seem to put his finger on. It might be because this is the first time he’s been to Jiyong’s flat, so it feels like A Step, but it also might be because he thought that dying his hair orange and running to Jiyong’s flat like he was in an 80s coming of age film would solve everything, and in the space of the lift ascending 2 floors he’s realised just how fucking dumb this is. In the back of his mind he blames Daesung for not foreseeing this and stopping it, but before he can give imaginary Daesung a piece of his mind the lift is stopping at Jiyong’s floor and the doors are opening. 

It’s a long walk down the corridor to their flat, which gives Seunghyun plenty of time to agonize even further about what in god’s name he’s doing. He reaches the flat door and raises his hand to knock, but the door flies open. Seungri stands on the other side of the door frame, speechless for once. 

“Your hair is...” He starts to say, but trails off. Seunghyun can hear Seungri swallow as he tries to rack his brains for something to say. 

“It was an accident” Is all he manages. Seungri frowns at him and steps aside to let him in, so Seunghyun slides past him into the flat with his eyes firmly fixed on the floor.  
“Jiyong’s in his room, it’s the one to the left of the kitchen” Seungri says, still directing his frown at Seunghyun’s hair. Feeling the heat of Seungri’s gaze on him, Seunghyun mumbles his thanks and leaves Seungri to close the door. He strides determinedly towards Jiyong’s room, but does a double take halfway because Jiyong is _there_ , leaning against the kitchen counter and eating from an old Chinese takeaway box. Seunghyun’s eyes are immediately drawn to Jiyong’s bare chest, then his pink boxer shorts, and finally up to his face, which is expressionless as he takes in Seunghyun’s new hair colour. But Seunghyun can practically hear Jiyong’s internal monologue as his expression slowly turns into one of bitterness. He blinks twice and then looks away from Seunghyun, which feels like a knife twisting in his gut. The silence is stifling, and made even more obvious by Seungri standing awkwardly behind Seunghyun. 

“What are you eating?” Seunghyun says, out of a desire to break the silence rather than any curiosity. Jiyong sucks in air through his teeth in response, drawing his lips into a tight line. He still wont look at Seunghyun, so Seungri, bless him, steps in for Jiyong and tries to alleviate the tension.

“Cold egg fried rice. It’s his favourite”

“Oh” is all Seunghyun can offer in response, and the silence returns to the room just as quickly as it left. The three of them stand in the kitchen for what feels to Seunghyun like five days, until Seungri excuses himself. Seunghyun watches him go with dread, and is torn between jumping out of Jiyong’s window or just leaving the country and creating a new identity for himself in somewhere like Ibiza. He’s leaning towards the first option when Jiyong finally speaks.

“What are you doing here?” He says with a sigh, resignation written all over his face. 

“I’m wanted to see you.” 

“And the hair?” In an instance Jiyong’s expression turns from apathetic to confrontational, and Seunghyun doesn’t know what to say. He stutters, trying to get his words out but Jiyong gets there first. “I know what you’re thinking, but this isn’t a fucking young adult novel, Seunghyun. You dying your hair isn’t going to ‘save me’, it means _nothing_ to me. You’re just a guy that I fuck, but for some reason you think that you, _you_ , can do things that years of medication and therapy have failed at? Give me a break.

“You’re not the first to do this kind of bullshit, and at the end of the day its never actually me they care about. No. Everyone has this desire to be the hero, to be the one that saves me from myself, so they can feel good about themselves. So for half of the year they can look at me and think; _I did that, I pulled him out of it_. You came here so you could feel good about yourself, and maybe you don't realise that yet, but I know it's true.

“Stupid cunt” Jiyong throws at him before slamming his empty Chinese box onto the kitchen counter. “You know where the door is” He says and leaves the kitchen, slamming his bedroom door behind him. Seunghyun is frozen to the spot and he feels vomit threaten to rise up into his throat. He can’t think straight, because the tears pricking at Jiyong’s eyes before he left were Seunghyun’s _fault_ , and this definitely wasn't part of his plan.


	12. Couldn't stay away

He feels _awful._ He wants to cry all the time and a million questions fly around his head, none of which he knows the answer to. Daesung’s eyes are filled with concern whenever he looks at him and he can’t understand what’s happened to his friend, and Seunghyun can’t understand it either. He’s never felt this way before, not even when his dog passed away last year (and he loved that dog like it was his son), never felt like his heart has been ripped from his body before. Daesung tries his best to comfort him, but there’s only so much that ice cream and Come Dine With Me on repeat can do for a man.

 

_Was Jiyong right?_ He asks himself, and a very pissed off by this point Daesung, over and over again. He doesn’t think so, but Seunghyun is rarely right about things. Every time he tries to untangle the web of thoughts in his head, he’s overwhelmed by the look of almost _betrayal_ on Jiyong’s face as he slammed the door on Seunghyun.

 

He allows himself to wallow in self pity and guilt for a couple of days, watching shitty daytime TV and eating enough carbs to feed a small village in Africa, until Daesung convinces him to join him at the pub. Some of their mutual friends are already there and, probably helped by the empty pint glasses on the table, they have no problem with expressing just how ridiculous Seunghyun is. Daesung recounts the story Seunghyun told him, but with a lot less sobbing and a lot more theatrics, and by the end of it he manages to coax a small smile out of Seunghyun. Feeling sad is such an _effort,_ Seunghyun decides, as he downs pint after pint and gradually joins in on the banter, feeling himself get a little bit lighter each time his friends rip into him and his awful decisions.

 

Last call is made at the bar but by this time Seunghyun’s blood type is Heineken, and he stumbles into the toilets to relieve himself before leaving. The alcohol in him has got him saying “fuck Jiyong!” to anyone who will listen, and he’s almost managed to convince himself that he’s over the kid. He tried, he failed, but he _tried._ Not his fault Jiyong didn’t want his help. But he catches his hair in the mirror whilst washing his hands and all of a sudden all he can think about is Jiyong’s smile, his laugh, his bony fingers on Seunghyun’s body. The only word he can think of to describe how he feels right now is despair. Absolute _despair._ The kind of despair that Jane Austen’s characters talk about. Because, although he’s never been in love before, he imagines this must be it. The inability to breath when he thinks of light dancing on Jiyong’s face and the way he wishes the clocks would all stop ticking when they’re lying in bed together.

 

He’s in love.

 

He’s in love and he’s fucked it up.

 

Another wave of sadness washes over him, amplified by the alcohol coursing through his veins. Seunghyun stares at himself in the mirror, having finished washing his hands ages ago, and knows he has to go to Jiyong’s flat. He leaves the pub without saying goodbye to anyone, but texts Daesung a ‘g gone’, because the last time he went MIA on a night out, Daesung called his mum and almost got the police involved. It takes him twice as long to reach Jiyong’s place this time because he can’t quite walk in a straight line and halfway through he has to beg to a kebab shop in order to use their toilet. But he makes it, still very drunk, and is pressing the buzzer to Jiyong’s flat before the sober part of his brain can tell him to stop.

 

“Hello?” It’s Seungri again, his voice rough from sleep. Seunghyun would normally feel guilty for waking him up, but he’s a drunk arsehole on a very important mission.

 

“It’s Seunghyun! Let me in please”

 

Seungri hesitates, and Seunghyun can hear him breathing down the line. He almost thinks he won’t be let in, to the point where he starts trying to figure out other ways of getting into the building that don’t involve a spiderman climb up the walls. Before he has to go to such drastic measures, however, the door clicks to unlock.

 

“Ok, come on up” Seungri says through the intercom, and Seunghyun can hear the uncertainty in his voice. He can also see it written all over Seungri’s face when he reaches their flat door and Seunghyun realises, a bit too late, that Jiyong must have told him what happened last time he was here. Thankfully, though, the alcohol in his system gives him enough Dutch courage to ignore how uncomfortable and tense the air between them feels.

 

“Is Jiyong in?”

 

“Yeah, he’s still awake” Seungri answers, biting his lip and not quite meeting Seunghyun in the eye. “Are you drunk?”

 

“Just a few pints. Not really drunk” He says back, whilst leaning heavily against the wall and looking very drunk. Seungri looks at him doubtfully, a look which Seunghyun definitely deserves, but lets him in anyway and shows him to Jiyong’s room. Seungri hovers behind him as he knocks on the door and stays there until Jiyong opens the door, flashing an apologetic look and a shrug at the other boy before leaving. Jiyong stands in his doorway, blocking Seunghyun from entering, still just wearing his pink boxer shorts. Thin arms are crossed over his chest as he cocks an eyebrow at Seunghyun.

 

“Are you drunk?” He asks bluntly.

 

“Maybe a little” He admits, and a brief look of disgust rolls over Jiyong’s face. Seunghyun panics. “But I need to talk to you.”

 

“Ok, talk” Jiyong still wont move from the doorway, still won’t unfold his arms and still won’t  give Seunghyun any warmth. Seunghyun doesn’t have a clue what he’s going to say, and Jiyong watches him struggle to find words before sighing angrily. Seunghyun is a pretty easy going person usually, especially when he’s drunk. But after hearing that sigh, something inside him snaps.

 

“What you said about me the other night, none of it’s true.” He starts off, furious.  “Well, maybe I am a stupid cunt, but I _care about you._ And you saying I’m selfish, or that I’m doing this to feel good about myself, you’re wrong. I eat food that’s expired 2 weeks ago, I’m ruining my degree because I can’t be arsed to get out of bed and I’ve reached the bottom of my overdraft limit because I can’t stop buying houseplants. I don’t give a shit about myself, Ji. I’m an absolute mess. But I do give a shit about you.

 

“And I know me dying my hair isn’t going to solve everything, and maybe I got carried away in the moment, but that’s not what this is. This is me saying I’m here for you, that when you don’t feel like being you I can remind you how great you are. I love you. I love you in the Summer and I love you in the Winter, Jiyong.

 

“You once said to me that you died your hair orange to remind yourself that the sun always rises again, that things always get better. I know I can’t make things better for you, but I also know that I can remind you that they do get better, and I will hold your hand until they do.

 

“Fuck you. I love you.”

 

And even though he doesn’t manage to say it quite as eloquently as he would have liked, and maybe he didn’t even realise half of it before he actually said it out loud, it’s out now, and it feels like a huge weight has been lifted off his chest. Seunghyun’s out of breath and he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from Jiyong, who unfolds his arms to let them dangle at his sides and steps to the side.

 

“Come in then.”


	13. Epilogue

He doesn’t know how, but Jiyong gets through it. Some days are much better than others, but some days are so bad he can barely get Jiyong out of bed. For months he holds Jiyong’s sobbing body close to him at night, lets his mind wander into any escape he can find but pulls him back when Jiyong goes too far. He’s there holding his hand throughout the worst of it and helping him smile throughout the best of it, and then December turns into April and gradually the bad days start to become less frequent, less bad. Seunghyun watches the colour return to Jiyong’s cheeks as the days get longer and the sun gets warmer, watches his smile get closer to his eyes each time Seunghyun tries to make a joke.

 

He’s is sitting on a bench in Richmond park, clutching a green tea from Pret and trying to get his hangover to go away. The fresh air is helping a lot, but the kids playing football in the field opposite are making him want to find a bus and run in front of it. Its only half nine in the morning, way too early to get up. But it’s Spring, now. Jiyong’s favourite time of the year, which means at least once a week Jiyong will force him to wake up at an ungodly hour to meet him for a walk in a park miles away from where they both live. _It’s worth it,_ he thinks, as Jiyong slams his bum onto the bench beside him, shooting a smile his way. Something’s different about Jiyong today. Whilst Seunghyun’s hair has, thank god, faded back to it’s natural black by now, Jiyong sits in complete contrast.

 

“You didn’t go for orange, again?” Seunghyun asks, while taking a strand of Jiyong’s new dark green hair and tucking it behind his ear.

 

“Nope, I’ve got you now” He replies gently. They sit there in silence for a while, whilst Seunghyun watches the early morning sunlight dance on Jiyong’s face.

 

  _Definitely worth it,_ he thinks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end! Thank you to everyone who read my story, commented, gave me kudos etc etc. This is one of the first fanfictions I've ever written but it won't be my last :) I hope you enjoyed the story :)


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